


those with diabetes should limit their intake of sugar daddies

by sadtirist



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Humor, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Sugar Daddy, call it caramelization because this romance going to be a slow burn, well more like frenemies to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29808090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadtirist/pseuds/sadtirist
Summary: Sakata Gintoki finds himself a sugar daddy in a jerk he frequently hates.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki
Comments: 16
Kudos: 62





	those with diabetes should limit their intake of sugar daddies

_sugar daddy  
_ _noun_

  1. _a well-to-do usually older man who supports or spends lavishly on a mistress, girlfriend, or boyfriend_
  2. _a generous benefactor of a cause or undertaking_



_—Merriam-Webster_

  1. _a bad idea_



_—Sakata Gintoki_

  
  


It was Kagura who suggested it first, having been thoroughly convinced by the unquestionable reliability of daytime soap operas that the solution for their financial troubles was getting themselves a sugar daddy. 

Gintoki's immediate response to this was to revoke television privileges for the foreseeable future until naive children could figure out the difference between fiction and reality and was gifted a swift kick to the groins. 

"Nomura-chan paid off all her student debt by becoming a gold digger, yes?" Kagura countered as she continued landing solid blows to his tender regions and in the seconds of calm and numbing pain between the returning impact, Gintoki could see she had a point, though he didn't voice it. "I bet you can't do half of what she did! Nomura-chan's my hero! I want to be her when I grow up!" 

"Gin-san's not a gold digger! He's silver, okay? Silver! Get the colour right!" Another kick. Gintoki let out an unmanly yelp. "Shinpachi! Back me up here!" 

Peering up from their chequebook balance with a solemn light reflecting off his glasses, said boy stood up quietly and made his way over from the opposite couch to join Kagura in pummelling his privates. 

"We wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't squandered all the money we earned this month on pachinko and JUMP magazine and whatever else you indulge in without telling us!" He shrieked, fists balled up at his sides as he and Kagura worked together in perfect violent harmony. "We're so deep in the red, we've gone full carmine!" A stray foot deviated onto Gintoki's unprotected face and he failed at suppressing another shameful cry, clutching desperately at his nose that was currently spouting blood.

"So will these cushions if you kill Gin-san like this!" 

Shinpachi sighed, clearly seeing no point in committing murder and ruining a decent piece of furniture when achieving neither would help their case. He readjusted his glasses and motioned for Kagura to sit down beside him. "We need a game plan." 

"Get a sugar daddy, yes?" 

"Well, that's the goal." Shinpachi rubbed his temples. "But how would we even find one?" 

Kagura hummed, crossing her arms in an obviously strained act of contemplation. After a brief moment, she lit up. "We'll take a hostage!" 

"I meant legally!" 

"Then I'll use my womanly charms," she cooed, making a show of propping up her breasts, or lack thereof, and the idea was quickly shot down by Shinpachi. "Still illegal!" 

"Oi, I haven't agreed to anything, you brats," Gintoki grumbled, lodging two rolls of tissue paper in place to stop his nosebleed. "Gin-san doesn't need a benefactor! He makes his own money." 

"Where is it then?" 

Huffing, Gintoki chose to dodge the question, which in itself was already telling. "Cash comes and goes! Supply and demand! That's just how it is with capitalism!" 

"Something tells me the demand is gambling," Shinpachi muttered under his breath but left it be to focus on strategizing. "I'm sure there are sites for recruiting sugar babies." 

"No way!" Gintoki slammed his hand on the couch, indignant. "A man has his pride, you know!" At the outburst, the remote that had been hanging precariously at the edge of the seat from their scuffle dropped down and flicked on the television just as the afternoon news cut to a segment with zealous intro music. 

_This week on Edo City Daily Gossip Must-Watch Public Access Exclusive..._

_Recent reports indicate that government officials have been allotting funds to a well-established group in Edo. We got the inside scoop from an undisclosed source who contacted our team that most of the money was directly transferred to the group's second-in-command. Here is a reenactment of the deal that supposedly went down last Friday at approximately 2300 hours._

"Not this crap. Their stories are so far-fetched." Shinpachi crouched, grabbing the remote to turn off the screen that was showing a zany 3D animation of an NPC-type character, donned in a dark overcoat and matching shades with the label _IMPORTANT GOBERNMENT OFFICIAL_ , lurking at the corner of an alleyway as if expecting someone. Overhead, the streetlight flickered and a shape moved into frame from the shadows. 

"Wait," Kagura interjected, "I wanna see who it is!" 

"Probably some top-bracket business mogul." Gintoki snorted. He reclined and crossed a leg over his knee casually as if he hadn't just been beaten within an inch of his life by two kids. "A classic case of the rich helping the rich stay rich so it's not my fault we're poor. Right, Shinpachi?" 

When no response was given to the ad hoc excuse, Gintoki peered down at the boy who was frozen in place, his bulging eyes threatening to break through his glasses, and followed his line of sight to the television screen. Despite the poorly-rendered graphics, it was clear to Gintoki exactly what caused Shinpachi to react the way he did because while he was talking, a certain man with a very specific hairstyle had walked stiffly into frame wearing nothing but a giant mayonnaise costume. 

_The identity of this recipient, our source tells us, is a feared monster known by many to terrorize the citizens of Edo with his quote unquote, "disturbing lifestyle choices and general existence." His title..._

The camera zoomed in with prolonged dramatic tension on the alphabet-inspired bangs belonging to none other than— 

_Shinsengumi's Demon Vice-Commander, Hijikata Toushirou._

Silence filled the room. Sadaharu farted from the other side of the couch. 

_It is believed that the estimated total he received is around 250 million yen._

Two bloody projectiles shot out from Gintoki's nose and rebounded off of Shinpachi's lens. As a new wave of red gushed forth in the absence of the blockage, he wheezed, "Kagura... Shinpachi... Gin-san's changed his mind."  
  


– – –  
  


"What," Hijikata gritted out, jaw clenched so tightly that it almost halved the cigarette in his mouth, "did you just say?" 

Sinking his finger deeper into one nostril (which had since recovered from the ordeal), Gintoki repeated his proposition with a purposeful lack of enthusiasm that Hijikata took as a provocation. 

"Be my sugar daddy." He paused for Hijikata to process the information in his nicotine-infested brain a second time and decided to overload it. "You know, my Splenda spenda. My sweet source of income. My soda pop-pop. My _gimme-your-wallet-right-now_ kind of guy. How about it?" 

The poor, overworked vein in the side of Hijikata's forehead finally succumbed to immense pressure that was dealing with the Yorozuya on a weekly basis and burst. The glint of steel under the midmorning sun cut into Gintoki's eyes before the sharp blade of Muramasha was unsheathed a millimetre from his chin, slicing the air from his breath and eliciting muted gasps from nearby street vendors and their customers who quickly avoided its wielder's murderous glare. The Vice-Commander's reply was a low, guttural growl. "Over my dead body." 

Gintoki scoffed and leaned back slightly, turning the tip of the sword to the side with his finger which left behind the slimy trace of a freshly harvested booger. "By the looks of it, you'll die soon from an aneurysm so you ought to do some charity work before you go, Oogushi-kun." 

"Sending you to the grave will be my gift to society." 

"In that case, you'll have to host a proper funeral for me." Gintoki reached for the sword again to wipe on another booger, giving Hijikata more incentive to skewer him with it. "I'm thinking a dessert buffet that has those chocolate fountains and a casket full of parfait. Not sure how much heaven has in stock so better safe than sorry." 

"Go to hell for all I care, you damn perm! You'll be too dead to eat them anyway." 

"Ouch," Gintoki said, his amused tone devoid of any real hurt. "That kind of treatment won't do as my sugar daddy." 

"No one's anyone's anything! Especially not that!" 

"Alright fine, if you don't like sugar daddy, we can go with _sucrose sponsor_." 

"Quit it with the names already!" 

"Hold on, I got more." Gintoki pulled out a crumpled scrap paper from his yukata, scanning the contents with his signature vacant stare. "Kagura helped me with some of them. Let's see here... bonbon patron, donor from another mother, honey with money, snack shack up, sappy papi, my personal Bill Cakes, and _Gin-san if you list too much the comedic effect will wear off_." Offended, Gintoki scrunched the paper back into a ball and tossed it behind him, striking a random bystander. "Actually, scratch the last one, Shinpachi has no sense of humour." 

"They're in on this too?" 

Gintoki shrugged. "One could say they were the masterminds. Although, I would argue Shinpachi has more brains than Kagura which is just the half he has." 

Hijikata sent him a surly look and Gintoki threw his hands up. "C'mon, we're broke!" 

"And who's to blame for that, do you think?" 

"Tax thieves like you! Technically, that's my stolen money in your pocket." 

"Whatever money you've got goes into pachinko slots! Your shitty spending habits have nothing to do with me!" 

Gintoki groaned in a childishly petulant manner that should be embarrassing for someone his age if he cared at all. Not bothering to acknowledge the truth in that statement, he dove straight for the pity points. "Do you know how hard it is to feed two mouths and the bottomless belly of a beast?" 

The scowl on Hijikata abated for a moment as he considered his words. "That freakish dog of yours _is_ quite large." 

"I'm not talking about Sadaharu!" Ruffling through his ungroomed mop of hair, Gintoki sighed. "Listen, we don't need to be around each other. All you have to do is fork over the money. Hell, you can even pay me to leave you alone. A win-win!" 

Hijikata sputtered. Some of the loosened tobacco scattered from his lips. "T-That's just bribery! Why would you even suggest"—he lowered his volume, painfully aware the conversation was still very much exposed to the public—" _sugar daddies_ if you aren't even going to stick to that definition?" 

"So you _want_ to turn this into a sugar daddy thing?" 

"Fuck no!" 

"Okay, okay. You don't want to open your legs for me. That's understandable for a stiff like you. Just open your wallet then." 

"Oh, I'm open," Hijikata gritted out, reaffirming his grip on his sword, "to splitting you up, asshole." 

Face-to-face with the drying wads of his own snot balls again, Gintoki entertained the idea of adding a third one to the mix but graciously spared Hijikata another ruptured vein to instead drill into a different pain point. "I heard from the grapevine on your gorilla leader's hairy ass that someone got a big bonus." He sidestepped the weapon to invade Hijikata's personal space, shortening their distance as the thin stream of pedestrians shifted their course around them, and sunk his voice an octave lower. "Say, why don't we split that bounty of yours fifty-fifty I take both halves?" 

The jab worked and Hijikata flinched. "B-Bonus? There's no bonus. What is this? A baker's dozen, damn it? Nothing of that sort happened!" 

"Really?" Ominous shadows surfaced onto Gintoki's face, accentuating the devilish grin stretching across his cheeks. "You didn't suddenly become... oh, I don't know... 250 million yen richer?" 

Hijikata's eyes widened. "How did you... that's"—he choked on his next words, presumably from the shock and having inhaled some of the tobacco flakes—"not true at all!" 

"The only lie here is the one coming out of your mouth." 

To Gintoki's unaired surprise, Hijikata didn't deny it, knowing that doing so would make it worse for himself. Reluctantly, he withdrew his blade, scraping the crusted mucus off it with the sleeve of an innocent civilian walking past, who was too stunned to protest, before slipping Muramasha back into its scabbard, Gintoki's limbs still fully intact. "You're that desperate, huh?" Hijikata stared hard at Gintoki, assessing him. Not one to back down, Gintoki met the firm gaze with a resolutely passive expression. "Then I have a proposition of my own you might be interested in." 

Loud laughter from a bar nearby pulled Hijikata's attention away briefly, alerting him that the middle of a populated street wasn't the best place to disclose his offer. Hijikata scanned the crowd for any suspicious activity before nodding once at Gintoki to follow. He plucked the tattered remains of the cigarette from his mouth and tossed it into a trash bin that they passed on their way to a narrow back alley, neglected by the usual flow of foot traffic. With his soiled finger resuming its task inside his other nostril, Gintoki trailed along, lagging a couple steps behind by choice. From this view, Gintoki could see the tension in Hijikata's shoulders buried underneath his uniform and made an idle note to see how far he could continue pushing the bastard's patience today. Just for fun. 

When they reached a point in the alley far removed from curious ears, Hijikata turned to face Gintoki, arms crossed rigidly. He seemed on edge despite guiding him here. Gintoki raised an eyebrow. "Are you on mayonnaise withdrawal? I was wondering when you'd develop some common sense and give it up. Good on you." 

"Shut up. As if." 

"Then why have you dragged me to some sketchy alley? Am I about to be kidnapped? Mother always told me not to follow suspicious men." 

Hijikata ignored his comment to fish out what was likely his sixth cigarette of the day from his jacket pocket. Gintoki made his disgust visible when it was lit up by a miniature replica of the gross condiment. "Normally, I wouldn't be divulging Shinsengumi cases in front of civilians. More so to a rebel dolt like you—" 

"Former rebel," Gintoki interrupted, frowning. 

"I guess it can't be helped." Hijikata clacked his tongue and began, with a tinge of hesitation, to explain. "We have reason to believe a Joui faction is hoarding weapons inside a top manufacturing company, using it as a front for their operations. A few weeks ago, our team got the clear from Matsudaira to investigate but they keep their tracks clean and base well-guarded so Yamazaki can't do much surveillance on it." He took a long drag of his foul nicotine stick before continuing, letting the shroud of suffocating smoke ease the creases in his forehead. Gintoki didn't respond because that would require breathing in the fumes. 

"The company has a lot of prominent investors in the city, the kind that not even the law can touch. If we raid them without hard evidence and unquestionable proof, it'll cause a huge stir and backfire on the Shinsengumi. Gathering information quietly is our only option at this point, which is why we've been secretly doing business with them under a fake name to get closer." 

"That's why you received those funds," Gintoki finished, slotting the pieces together. He waved at the dissipating smoke, coughing. "You know, I feel like I deserve some monetary reimbursement for being led on." 

"You led yourself on, idiot. If it were up to me, I'd have them locked up in jail by now." 

Upon hearing there would be no consolation in cash, Gintoki started walking away. "Fantastic. Great story. Could've done without most of it so if you'll excuse me, Gin-san has to hunt down some other rich bloke. I'd say good luck but I don't care." 

"Hold it," Hijikata called out, the annoyance in his voice subdued enough to sound genuine. "I wasn't lying when I said this might be of interest to you." 

Gintoki pivoted to answer with a disbelieving sneer. "My interest is debt and it's piling up the more you spend wasting my precious time." 

"Don't you want to know the name of that company?" Hijikata tried again. There was a hint of desperation in his request that Gintoki would've found hilarious if he hadn't already hit his threshold around the guy. "I'm sure a sugar addict like you has heard of them. Big Sweets." 

Gintoki blinked. His sneer wobbled. "Hm? C-Come again? I thought you s-said B-Big Sweets but I must have heard wrong." He did his best imitation of Sakamoto's awkward laugh. "Yep, there's no way it could be B-Big Sweets—" 

"I just told you. It's Big Sweets." 

A pile of discarded crates residing against the wall suddenly lost all structural form as Gintoki's fist travelled through six layers of solid wood. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" He cut off on his scream to locate more junk to break and dented a pipe when he couldn't find any. "You... _Big Sweets_? That's who you're targeting? Oi, just how much sugar have you bought from them? Gin-san needs to know... Wait!" He stumbled over to yank on Hijikata's collar, shaking him with the most vigour Hijikata had ever seen from him. "Which kind was it? The flavoured? Tell me you got the Strawberry Supreme!" 

"I don't remember! The regular kind!" Hijikata spat, pushing on Gintoki's forearms and tried to knee him in the stomach. "And put a lid on it, would ya? This is supposed to be confidential for fuck’s sake!" 

Chuckling wryly, Gintoki let go of the wrinkled fabric that would doubtlessly need a heavy round of ironing to rectify it. "The regular kind? Pitiful. Uncultured scums like you can't distinguish the vast difference in quality. Regular isn't in Big Sweets' vocabulary, you plebeian." 

Giving up on smoothing out the lines, Hijikata shot Gintoki a glare. "Regular may not be but criminal sure is. We've got too many bags of sugar crammed throughout the barracks, there's barely any room left for the men to do their duties and it's interfering with my work, damn it." 

Gintoki rolled his eyes. "I know this is an impossible task for you tax robbers, but can't you share the wealth amongst the people? Do some good for a change." 

Hijikata flicked the accumulated length of ash off his cigarette before returning it to his mouth with a tired twitch. "If we allocate the sugar to other companies or even donate them in the form of some cavity-inducing charity, once we arrest the Joui and the news becomes public, the Shinsengumi will come under heat for knowingly distributing assets from criminals.

“The alternative," he said, sighing, "is finding a ridiculous sugar fanatic willing to take 5000 kilograms worth of the stuff—and counting—while keeping it under wraps. So..." Hijikata set his jaw and muttered, "Can you take them?" 

"Huh?" Gintoki pointed at himself. "Me?" 

"You're the only one I can think of that fits the profile! I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't the last resort!" 

"Oogushi-kun, I'm flattered!" Gintoki crooned, batting his eyelashes. An embellishment of sparkles twinkled in the background. "Why, you've made Gin-san so happy he's on the verge of tears and diabetes!" Then, with his normal complexion back, he added in a deadpan manner, "As much as I'd love to give those quality sugar a deserving home in my stomach, Doc says I gotta limit my intake. Didn't we cover this in Episode 3? Oh, that's right! You debuted two episodes later. My bad. You know, sometimes I forget how tough it is for supporting characters to get ample screen time."

Hijikata threw down his cigarette at the mocking tone, grinding on it with his heel as if it was a certain permed head, and sensed the dull throb of an irritated vein. At the risk of throttling the neck of the sole asshole who could help him, Hijikata flipped open his cell phone instead and dialed. "Harada, it's me. Yeah, check the label on the shipment we got. Uh-huh." Angling his head towards Gintoki, Hijikata smirked. " _Strawberry Supreme_ , you say?" 

The sparkles that were hovering in the air crashed around Gintoki unceremoniously, shattering like his composure. Hijikata ended the call and pocketed the device, the vexing grin settling quite smugly on his face. "Well? Still a no?"

"Bastard." Gintoki kicked at the debris of splintered wood that were formerly the crates he smashed, feeling himself caving in already to the very attainable reality of relishing each grain of strawberry-infused sugar—a true masterclass of artificial flavouring—by the spoonful as his blood glucose steadily rose for the greater good. "You handing all this sugar to me with no strings? What's the catch? Is this some fetish ploy to be my sugar daddy? Emphasis on the sugar?" 

Scoffing, Hijikata resumed his usual scowl at the insinuation. "Enough with the 'sugar daddy' bullshit. There's no catch. You don't even have to eat it. I just need to get rid of this crap so I can focus on taking the Joui down. And you better not blabber this to anybody."

"Please, I'm not a masochist." 

"Deal?" Hijikata extended a hand, less friendly than it was forced by undesirable circumstances. Gintoki, equally as burdened—though mainly by his irrational love for sweets and a propensity to disregard professional medical advice for such sweets—took it in his with a single firm shake. Neither wanted to feel the unique sensation of the other's skin more than was needed. 

"Deal."

Perhaps it was because both men were involuntarily preoccupied by the soft warmth temporarily shared between their calloused palms and then immediately hating themselves for even allowing a thought so sickening, that an idling figure crouched on the adjacent rooftop overhead went completely unnoticed for the whole twenty minutes of dialogue and sparse narration. 

"Wow. What an interesting turn of events," the figure mused, lowering the Shinsengumi bazooka that he had aimed at Hijikata and pointedly ignoring a white splat mark smearing a vacant spot on his uniform. "This is absolutely worth getting shit on by a pigeon for."

As he said this, the same pigeon released another hefty dropping onto the top of his head, the goop making a home for itself in the sandy upturned bowl of hair which spurred the idea of a side quest to hunt down the winged cretin and cook it in ten innovative ways using the rocket launcher.

But before he could entertain the scheme, the figure poked his head back over the ledge and, with the impeccable timing of someone who thrived off of external misfortune, caught the bent form of the widely-feared and intimidating Demon Vice-Commander on his knees, cradling his head, the source of his woes having since sped-walked away wearing an unreadable expression. Now, alone and in the misleading privacy of the alleyway, he moaned out, the marvelous sound of regret echoing against the building walls, _"What the fuck have I done?"_

"Well, Hijikata-san." A ruthless grin spread on the figure's face where the bird excrement was slowly migrating downwards. He really would roast that pigeon later. "You've actually done me a favour."

Below, the Vice-Commander continued to wallow in his misery, sorely unprepared for how much worse it would get for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! this is my first time ever writing gintama/ginhiji and full disclosure: I have not kept up with all of the storylines despite picking through wiki pages so please consider this as a filler across a few episodes that takes place sometime after the baragaki arc! 
> 
> this idea was honestly born from random sugar daddy title alternatives I came up with a long time ago and what better a fandom to give them context to than one as absurdly comical as gintama? plus, I mean, gintoki's sweet tooth is the perfect segue into this trope haha.
> 
> also, the part about the 3D animation was inspired by taiwanese news channels (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jV85rD0gfqo&t=31s). it’s hilarious.


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